Age of Eternal War
by Immortal Drake
Summary: Through the machinations of a Chaos Sorcerer, a Lone Wolf finds himself flung out of the war-torn galaxy he knows. Now he has to deal with beings that call themselves elves, dwarves, and dragons. At least there's plenty of fighting to be had.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hello again everyone, Immortal Drake here with a new story. For those of you who have also read my other older stories, fear not I'm still working on getting those going again now that the current semester is over, it's just slow going. For those of you who haven't read one of my stories before, welcome, thanks for choosing this one!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Warhammer 40k which belongs to Games Workshop, nor do I own the Age of Fire series, which belongs to E. E. Knight. Without further ado, please read, review, and enjoy.**

* * *

Age of Eternal War

By: Immortal Drake

Today couldn't have been a worse day.

For the people of the Imperial planet of Tellas Primaris, today marked the third month that their planet had been under siege by the tainted forces of Chaos. The heretics had remained innocuous, hiding their true nature under the guise of a cult, one of some with a presence on the planet offering salvation for faith. Many had come under their sway, joining the flocks of believers that chanted the cult's name in the streets.

Soon, as its numbers swelled, the cult had turned violent, shouting the names of the various Ruinous Powers, and before long daemons had been summoned into the Materium. The PDF had fallen to the claws and twisted powers of the daemons in nearly short order, or joined the heretical ranks. It had been a stroke of luck that the Tellas 21st Regiment of the Imperial Guard had been stationed on Tellas Secundus when the fighting had broken out, otherwise the planet might have never had a chance against the incursion.

The call for further reinforcements was soon needed, as more and more daemons had begun appearing among the Chaos ranks, indicating that a foul Sorcerer was behind this invasion. The call was answered mere days later, as the drop pods of the mighty Black Templars fell from the skies to disgorge their deadly occupants upon the heretics.

The Black Templars would also herald the arrival of more, a small detachment of the revered Space Wolves, and with them a Lone Wolf.

* * *

They were out there, he could smell them, their foul taint covered the ground amid the destruction wrought by the artillery and heavy weapon shells. Looking to his right, he could see the extent of the fortifications built by his allies; trenches, bunkers, tank traps, even tanks put into temporary emplacements. The gleaming metal turrets and barrels of lasguns, bolters, stubbers, and the battle cannons and lascannons of Leman Russ Tanks and Land Raiders respectively brought an unconscious half-smirk to his lips. He knew if he looked to his left he would see much the same, his fellow Astartes and the Imperial Guard engineers had done their job effectively.

Turning back to the no man's land in front of him turned his expression dour once again, the smell of the Neverborn bringing his thoughts to why he was here. ' _Today is the day my oath is fulfilled_ ,' he thought to himself, thinking back to when he had donned the holy ceramite that now armored his towering form, when he had equipped his mighty power fist and taken up his ever faithful chainaxe as well as armed his single bolt pistol.

He could hear the shuffling and clanking of the armored forms likely in the dark black of the Templars and the blue-grey of his brothers. None bothered him as he stood near the edge of the fortification, stock-still unlike the rest. His grip tightened, loosened, then tightened again on the haft of his axe as the only sign of his impatience to make contact with the enemy. The smaller Guardsmen made much less noise, but it was noticeable under the noise of the larger Astartes.

A sound caught the edge of his hearing, and it must have been noticed by the others, as almost everyone quieted down instantly. The only one still speaking was the Templar Chaplain, the skull-helmed man repeating verses of the Imperial Creed to steel the minds of those around him. The Guardsmen meanwhile got into position around him, leveling lasguns and manning heavy weapons emplacements. The Astartes made similar preparations, he could hear bolters being cocked, sanctified power armor and close combat weapons shifting as the Templars and Wolves readied for the coming battle. Behind them he could hear the distinctive _kla-clack_ of a heavy bolter being readied as the Long Fangs braced themselves and took aim.

He closed his eyes, focusing on his hearts-beat, the constant _thump_ in his ears slowly and surely focusing his thoughts. ' _I am the Lone Wolf_ , _sole survivor of my Pack_ , _I shall avenge my fallen pack-mates_ , _or I shall perish in doing so_ , _and join them_ _in the Eternal Rout_ ,' he mentally repeated his Oath, the words giving him strength, his hand gripping his chainaxe and the fingers of his power fist flexing. He was ready, his eyes opened and he surveyed the battlefield with a laser-sharp focus.

A horrid howl of mixed voices preceded the heretics' advance, a heedless charge that brought them into the teeth of the Imperial lines. Bolters and their heavy equivalents erupted with great _booms_ , lasguns _cracked_ , stubbers added their own _thoom_ amongst the fire, and the tanks added their own much louder contributions to the cacophony. The projectiles tore into the robed cultists and traitor PDF alike, armor shattered and melted, the flesh underneath exploding into gore or burning. The smell of burning flesh and powder alike overwhelmed even the smell of daemonic taint on the field, if only for a moment.

The heretics weren't without weapons of their own, autoguns and looted lasguns fired their own retributive volleys at the valiant defenders, though the accuracy left much to be desired, the grouping of defenders meant that some shots still made it through. The scattered fire wasn't enough to truly harm any of the stalwart Astartes, but the Guardsmen and loyal PDF had less luck, as some fell to the enemy fire. He felt a stray bullet _ping_ off one of his shoulder plates, but he held himself from trying to find the offender and tear them apart, not wanting to risk being torn apart by friendly fire.

The heretics lost many to the Imperials, but there were still near-innumerable traitors storming the lines. As they closed in, he could feel that Astartes beside him begin straining at the leash, the Blood Claws in particular he could hear snarling even as the Grey Hunters kept them in check.

"For the Emperor!" the shout was enough, and he threw himself up and over the trench wall with a loud howl as the heavier weapons ceased firing on the closest heretic ranks, focusing instead on the ranks behind. He could hear the Blood Claws give their own howls of rage and bloodlust as they surged behind him, the Black Templars likely not far behind.

It wasn't long before he took his first life of that day, a heretic ran screaming at him, a curved knife raised. He thumbed the activation rune of his chainaxe, and with the weapon's signature roar, slashed the cultist in two. A traitor PDF peppered him with autogun rounds that deflected off of his armored form, the man didn't get an opportunity to fire again as his power fist mulched his organs in one blow. Nothing stopped his relentless advance into the heart of the enemy, his target, the Sorcerer sure to be directing it all.

"Strike from the skies, brothers!" he heard the Templar Sergeant yell, and he heard the roar of the Assault Marines' jump packs, the black armored forms falling from above to land in the middle of the heretics some distance in front of him. Not to be outdone, the Lone Wolf howled and launched himself forward, the Blood Claws eagerly following in his wake.

Heretics fell to him left and right, hewn to pieces by his roaring chainaxe, or pulped by his massive power fist. It was then that the taint of daemons became much more evident than the smell of the dead and dying. A red form came running at him through the haze of battle, bipedal with cloven hooves and twisted black horns above burning eyes and a slavering fanged maw, the Bloodletter raised its daemonic blade and leapt.

The daemon wasn't to get far, as the Lone Wolf raised his power fist, blocking the attack from the tainted weapon, knocking it aside, then bringing his chainaxe down on its skull, sending the daemon's foul blood everywhere, coating his power armor and part of his face. More freakish roars heralded the arrival of more of them, their reeking forms already charging headlong towards him and the other Imperials. He readied his weapons and charged to meet them, a fang-bearing snarl on his lips.

He could hear the Assault Marines and Blood Fangs already making contact with the other daemons, he brained one Bloodletter with his power fist, the metal implement staving in its skull then buried his chainaxe in the guts of another on his right as the weapon tore away at whatever insides it possessed. A shout from to his left tore his attentions to a Blood Fang who had managed to get himself pinned by one of the daemons, the Bloodletter raising its sword for a killing blow.

Acting quickly, the Lone Wolf let go of his chainaxe and drew the bolt pistol from his hip, firing off a single shot into the daemon's shoulder with a loud _bang_ , the flesh exploding from the round and causing the red beast to drop its sword. The distraction was enough for the Blood Fang to get himself free and then run the daemon through with his chainsword. "Many thanks, Skald," the young marine said.

"Keep your eyes open pup," was the Lone Wolf's only reply before he turned back to the fight, firing another bolt round at an encroaching daemon before holstering the pistol and ripping his chainaxe free of the daemon it had been embedded in. Skald then continued his advance, intent on reaching and slaughtering his target.

The amount of daemons increased staggeringly, then Skald heard what could only be the sound of approaching power armored warriors, ' _Traitor Astartes_ ,' he thought to himself with a snarl. He revved his chainaxe in preparation, then charged.

He would meet the source of the noise soon enough, as he came upon a small squad of Chaos Astartes, their armor twisted by the taint of the Ruinous Powers. He gave them no chance to act first, leaping like a wolf on the hunt. His chainaxe found its mark between the armored collar and the helmet of one Marine, the traitor's red blood spraying out from his neck as the chain weapon tore into him.

As the other Astartes turned their ancient bolters on him, he grabbed his first victim by the collar with his power fist and turned him, using the traitor's body to block the bolt rounds. The Chaos Marine twitched and spasmed as the rounds impacted, before falling limp. Switching his grip with his power fist, Skald heaved and tossed the traitor at another, grunting from the effort as the corpse impacted the Marine.

Skald wasted no time in attacking again, surging towards the nearest standing traitor. His power fist lashed out, slamming into the Chaos Marine once twice then three times in rapid order, crumpling the chest plate and then denting in the helmet. Letting the corpse crumple, Skald immediately planted his chainaxe into the helmet of the traitor he had thrown the first into, the teeth grinding then biting into it and the head beneath.

A bolt round impacted his shoulder, wrenching his grasp off of his axe, thankfully his shoulder pad had taken the brunt of it and deflected the round off. The plate had been scorched from the explosion and the round had left a pit in the armor. With a snarl, Skald drew his bolt pistol again, firing at the two remaining traitors. The rounds pinged off of a chest plate, a knee guard, and even impacted one bolter, shattering the weapon.

The pistol empty for the moment, Skald threw himself at the two traitors. The one whose bolter had shattered drew a combat knife, meeting the Lone Wolf's charge with one of his own. Skald managed to sidestep the first frenzied slash, grabbed the Chaos Marine's helmet with his power fist, and slammed it hard on his armored knee. The blow sent the traitor reeling, giving Skald enough time to sweep his legs out from under him then cave in his helmet with the power fist.

This left one last Chaos Marine, and as Skald made to charge again, a screeching bolt of warp fire landed between the two. The explosion knocked Skald backward and the corrupted Astartes away from him. The Lone Wolf rolled to a slightly disorienting stop near the other corpses. Shaking the dizziness away, Skald noticed his chainaxe and quickly yanked it free. He stood up and looked to where the Warp energy had come from.

What he saw was not just a regular Sorcerer like reports had initially suspected, but a full Astartes Sorcerer of the Ruinous Powers with robe-covered power armor. "Time to die, traitor," Skald snarled, he readied his chainaxe, giving it a couple revs and clenching the fingers of the power fist.

He was only met by an amused chuckle, "Alone, surely you jest?" The Sorcerer's voice was smooth as silk, easily carrying the temptations of Chaos, but Skald would have none of it. With a howl, the Lone Wolf leapt at the Sorcerer.

The duel would dissolve into a quick flurry of motion, Skald's chainaxe roaring as it swung through the air, clashing with the Sorcerer's staff or chopping through the air. The Lone Wolf's power fist would be used similarly, though the Sorcerer was often agile enough to avoid it.

With a sudden _crack_ and _snap_ , the duel would change in Skald's favor. One moment, the Sorcerer was deflecting an attack from the Lone Wolf's chainaxe with his staff, the next Skald's power fist was smashing through the shaft of the weapon, splintering it in its wielder's grasp. Taking advantage, Skald swung his chainaxe in an arc, gashing through the Sorcerer's midsection in a wild spray of blood. With an unconscious gasp, the Sorcerer crumpled, only to receive a knee to the front of his helmet from Skald, knocking him on his back.

Grinning predatorily at his now supposedly vulnerable prey, Skald raised his chainaxe high, aiming to decapitate the Sorcerer in one blow. What he didn't count on was the frantic chanting of words of foul power coming from the Sorcerer's lips, nor did he see the sputtering energy gathering on his opponent's hands and around the two. The Lone Wolf would realize his mistake mere moments too late as the Sorcerer finished his spell, blasting Skald into the air and into the waiting arms of a wildly fluctuating vortex behind him.

The wild colors and whirling shapes of the Warp greeted the Space Wolf as he went hurtling through the Immaterium. He could hear the foul whispers and howls of daemons, yet they seemed muted somehow, almost as if he had been sent through a kind of tunnel within the Warp. Overwhelmed, the Lone Wolf felt himself slip from consciousness, despite his efforts to remain awake.

* * *

His pounding skull woke Skald rather abruptly, like he had just woken up from a night full of guzzling Mjød and feasting. The next thing he noticed drew him to full alertness, he wasn't alone.

Hovering above him was the face of a creature he had never seen before, its snout long and triangular in shape, the entire head covered in small scales and tough looking hide where the scales weren't present. The scales were a dark mottled red color, and the reptilian, nay draconic creature's eyes were angled like a feline's with a similar dark red color and slit pupils. A hard looking crest sat on the top of its head and four horns seemed to sprout from it. The tip of the creature's snout was mere inches from his face, and the fact that he was awake either hadn't dawned on it or it didn't care.

It was to learn its error soon enough, as Skald reacted in true Space Wolf fashion. He promptly bit it on the snout.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, looks like Skald is going to make a lovely first impression on the locals. Anyway, hope I didn't mutilate the character of a Space Wolf or the other Wolves and Templars too badly at least. And before I go, here's a codex of terms for the uninitiated:**

 **Blood Claws: Newly initiated Space Wolves, not yet in control of their new temperament and thus are armed with melee weapons and power armor from the get-go so they can at least hopefully survive to learn the ways of war.**

 **Grey Hunters: Next rank up from the Blood Claws, named for the trait of all Space Wolves' hair turning grey as they age. Fill the rank of rank-and-file Tactical Marines.**

 **Long Fangs: More senior Space Wolves, so named for the canines of every Space Wolf that continue to grow throughout their lifetimes. Entrusted with the heavy weapons.**

 **Assault Marines: Space Marines/Astartes equipped with jump packs and close combat weapons.**

 **Lone Wolf: Space Wolves who are the only survivors of their Pack/squad. With no one left close to them, they take an oath of penance then eventually vengeance, seeking out the strongest enemy they can find in hopes to slay them and avenge their fallen pack-mates or die in the process. Most Lone Wolves die trying to fulfill this oath.**

 **Mjød: Extremely alcoholic drink favored by the Space Wolves. So potent that it can eat through a regular human's guts.**

 **And now that that's done with, I'll see y'all in the next chapter, hopefully.**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Welcome back everyone to Age of Eternal War. Sorry about the slight delay, was trying to set up a weekly update schedule, but this one was a little hard to find a natural cutoff point. Hopefully I didn't end it too forcefully while trying to keep the word count similar to the prologue.**

 **Disclaimer: See Prologue. And without further ado, please read, review, and enjoy.**

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Her mate's yelp jolted her out of her dozing. Her head shot up on her long neck, rustling her green scales as she scanned around, not recognizing the cave she and her mate shared for a moment. After the haze from the rude awakening had faded, she recognized the familiar stalagmites and the shelf she lay on, the rest of her body sprawled out and her tail-tip hanging over the far edge slightly.

' _He must have gotten into a rat den again_ ,' she thought to herself. She slowly got to her feet, stretching her _sii_ out in front of her, letting her claws momentarily extend then retract. With some shuffling her wings were back in their regular folded position. The slight stiffness gone, she gave her head one final shake to get some of her fringe out of her eyes as she started exiting the cave.

What she didn't expect to hear was what sounded like a growling contest. "RuuTarth, what is it this time?" she addressed her red-scaled mate, unable to stop herself remembering all the other times her Wyrr love's curiosity had gotten the better of him. ' _Maybe it's a drake that wandered over from the Skotl hill_ ,' she pondered.

She increased her pace as her mate's mottled red scales came into view, "Ruu, what is going on, what are you even growling… at…."

She couldn't help but let her jaw hang slightly. Her mate hadn't seemed to notice her even approach; his gaze was focused on what appeared to be a giant of a human. The human was growling back at RuuTarth, leering out of bright yellow eyes and matching her mate snarl for snarl, though she couldn't help but notice a wavering glazed look that flashed over the human's eyes every now and then. The human was armored in what appeared to be a kind of metal or stone, blue-grey in color. On the human's left shoulder was what appeared to be a stylized wolf's head.

It was then she noticed the not entirely human features of the human's face, the elongated canines for starters that glinted slightly red in the human's mouth. Combined with the long grey-streaked red hair that hung around his head and the large axe-looking weapon and the large armored fist he would have likely intimidated any hominid he came across. If anything he reminded her of a feral wolf in his actions.

"Taelia, what are you doing out here?" her mate's statement startled the dragonelle from her observations. She looked to her red-scaled love and couldn't help a stifled giggle at the sight of the bite mark on her mate's nose.

"Did you stick your nose in its mouth or something Ruu?" her mate huffed at her light jab, not taking his eyes off of the human. "I came out here because I thought you had gotten into another rat den when I heard you yelp," she explained, "But it seems I was wrong."

"Then what is it?" her mate's demanding tone caused Taelia's tail to flick in slight irritation, before she could answer RuuTarth continued, "It's not like any human I've ever seen. The other ones certainly didn't bite."

"My best guess is it must be a relative to a human, but with that armor on it could possibly be related to a blighter or an elf or even a troll and we wouldn't be able to tell," she answered.

"That's all your vaunted Anklene mind can come up with? I'm disappointed," her mate teased. She supposed she had it coming for her comment about the bite to his nose, but some shuffling caught her attention. She returned her gaze to the giant human and she found it shuffling backward, the glazed look returning more frequently than before to its eyes.

* * *

This wasn't good. Skald inwardly cursed his Emperor-given ability to gain the memories of other beings by ingesting genetic material. He not only had to deal with a single xeno, but another one that had joined it, and on top of that he was dealing with flashes of the damned xeno's memories. One moment he was there staring at the big lizard, the next he was in a cave or tunnel. Even worse, it seemed the xenos had some kind of inherent learning ability, and his Omophagea was reacting strongly to it through the potent blood.

From what he had subconsciously deciphered, the green scaled one was a female while the red one was a male. He probably would have guessed it due to the red's crest and the green's lack thereof, but this new guarantee was not helpful in the current situation. It also didn't help that the two were noticeably bigger than him, though the lack of feats of great strength from the xeno's memories lessened the amount of threat he felt, he wouldn't dare let down his guard.

He had upon arrival instantly noticed that he couldn't smell the Warp taint like he had earlier. His Astartes body and sacred Power Armor still reeked of it, but that had been expected. However, he could still smell _something_ that his mind couldn't place, as if something had lingered upon the place he stood. The xeno's memories weren't providing any immediate answers, a brief flash of a gout of fire being exhaled invaded his vision for a moment, and the Lone Wolf gritted his fangs as he tried to repress the surge of memories.

He could detect fresh air from his left, which mean that an entrance was definitely nearby, or at least in range of his nose. He continued his shuffling withdrawal, ready to commit slaughter should the need arise, keeping his eyes on the xenos in front of him. Another flash of memory obscured his vision; that of a tunnel similar to the one he stood in, of passing caves that held more of the xenos. If that meant anything, that meant that he could encounter other caves with similar xenos in them.

' _Outnumbered_ , _unfamiliar territory_ , _and intruding memories from an Emperor-damned xeno_ ,' Skald laid out his situation mentally, both cursing his luck and counting his fortune. He would no doubt have plenty of stories to tell the others should he get back to the Imperium. However he would also have to be careful lest these xenos had some sort of trick he hadn't deciphered yet.

He had now aligned himself so he could back out of the entrance without his eyes leaving the xenos in front of him, and thus he switched from his shuffling to full on backing up by steps. He knew that his gene-brothers would ruthlessly tease and chastise him for such an action in any other situation, but it was the only option he saw working in his favor at the moment.

As he made a true retreat, he noticed the red xeno and its companion begin to follow him, its bright eyes locked onto him. He swung his inactive chainaxe at it, and though the feint made it snap its head back for a moment, it didn't stop the xeno. Skald snarled, inwardly cursing its determination to the depths of the Warp. Any sort of attack on his part would no doubt cause enough noise to bring down any other inhabitants of the cave system, and in this environment the advantage would lay with the scaled things.

The smell of the fresh air was getting stronger, he was nearly out, but a sudden burst of the xenos' growl-like language from behind him made him freeze.

* * *

"Ruu, are you sure you should be following it?" Taelia voiced her concern for her mate as she followed him as he followed the strange human.

"Taelia, it hasn't done anything more than bite me, I'm sure it's just lashing out, once it's out of the hill we can send a thrall to the Drakwatch so they can search for it," her mate answered.

This did little to ease the concerns of the Anklene dragonelle, her tail lashing from side to side in her unease. She would admit it was mostly for her own mate, but also for concern of any thrall they sent to get the Drakwatch being possibly intercepted by this human. They weren't far from the exit of the Hill now.

"RuuTarth, it is quite early to see you up and moving," the familiar voice of her brother caused her mate to snap his head up and the human to freeze in place.

"HeNuath, a pleasure, as always," Ruu addressed Taelia's silver-scaled brother. HeNuath was a somewhat scholarly dragon by nature, the red Wyrr standing somewhat taller than the Anklene, and having more bulk as well.

"I assume that this human is the source of that loud noise I heard earlier?" the silver's question got a nod out of Taelia's mate, who returned to staring in the direction of the giant human.

The human in question seemed to be in the midst of processing the situation, the fingers of its huge fist flexing and its grip on its axe becoming tight. Suddenly, as fast as she could blink the human lashed out with its fist, striking HeNuath in the chest. Scales shattered, bone broke, and the silver screeched in pain as his hide underneath tore and blood leaked out from him.

In the span it took for Taelia and her mate to process the violence, the human took off in a thundering run out past the fallen silver. Taelia couldn't help but let loose a terrified scream as her mate gawked.

* * *

' _That did the job well enough_ ,' Skald thought to himself as he ran out of the cave, the dim lighting inside being replaced with a slightly brighter ambience that also came with a small rush of heat. He didn't take the time to process his full surroundings until he had made some distance from the other xenos and the entrance to the cave.

Looking around, he found he had actually exited what looked like a large hill, with a number of entrances on multiple levels no doubt for the xenos he had encountered. Taking in the rest of the landscape, he saw other hills similar to the one he had just left. They seemed to be slightly clustered into groups of two from what he could see. And in a central position was a much larger one that was made out of a black stone. Dotted in and amongst the landscape were what appeared to be rivers of magma. And rising above and covering the entire thing was what appeared to be a dome of crystal.

' _The Salamanders would love this place_ ,' Skald thought to himself idly as he took everything in, the xeno's memories still intruding on his sight every now and then. His thoughts then turned to other more important matters, ' _Now where do I go from here?_ ' he thought. He certainly wouldn't be going back to the hill he had just left, not with the xenos there on alert.

Something from the xeno's memories drew his attention, a place the xeno was familiar with. He immediately turned towards a large field of the barren ground and took off towards it.

* * *

Excitement ran through her veins, her tail twitched and her claws flexed, kneading the ground under them. Her gaze darted from side to side, eager for the targets to show themselves.

"Nilrasha, steady yourself, you'll give us away," her fellow Firemaiden's caution caused the drakka to get herself under control. She knew in other similar raised shelves of the barren wastes around the Lavadome lay her comrades. They were waiting above a particularly deep depression in the ground, flanked on either side by taller rocks that created a natural chokepoint for anything that couldn't fly over the rocks.

"Sorry Ensella," Nilrasha quickly apologized to her superior, the leader of the ambush waiting for their rivals in the Drakwatch. It was part of a challenge that had been sent to them by one Nivom, an aspiring leader in the Drakwatch's ranks. The Drakwatch would be bringing some of their winnings as well as some of the ore the drakes had raided from the Firemaidens' stores through the depression they now hid above, and should the Firemaidens make off with a significant portion of it they would get the rest as their own prizes.

A sudden noise drew Nilrasha's attention, a constant _thud_ and what sounded like armor moving. "What's that?" Ensella said as the noise got louder.

"I think something's coming this way," piped up another drakka, Simae if Nilrasha remembered correctly.

"Whatever it is, it sounds big," Nilrasha added her own thoughts.

"Quiet, both of you, and stay down," Ensella quickly put an end to it, the three drakka returning to hiding themselves in the shadows of the rocks.

It took all of Nilrasha's willpower to not openly gawk as the biggest human she had ever seen entered the depression, his eyes were nearly even with her hiding place and she guessed that he could nearly touch the sides of the depression if he stretched out his arms. And as the human started looking around, the sight of his bright yellow irises and their predatory gaze nearly drew a squeak from her as they passed over her. His armor had to be some kind of stone or metal she was sure, though it carried with it a rather awful smell that she couldn't place. As the human turned though, she couldn't take her eyes off of the glint of red and chips of silver on his gigantic fist, and the unmistakable smell of dragon blood.

As the human turned around, he seemed to grow angrier and angrier, baring long canines and even growling. She had never heard a human growl like that before, and his grip on his strange axe with what appeared to be metal teeth tightened. Suddenly, he groaned, and his hand went to his head as a glazed look crossed his eyes.

The human stepped off to the side and then put his back to the rock shelf, sliding down into a sitting position. Keeping his axe in hand, the human lowered his head as if asleep. He stayed like that for many long moments, and Nilrasha noticed she had been holding in her breath as she exhaled slowly and as quietly as she could.

A quiet shuffling of scales alerted Nilrasha as Simae scooted along the ground on her belly closer to her, careful to keep to the shadows as she did so. "What do you think it's doing?" she whispered as quietly as she dared.

"I'm not sure, but do you think he's a thrall, or did he wander in from the Upper World?" Nilrasha answered in a whisper herself.

"He? Are you sure?" was Simae's own reply.

"Yes, his features are like those of a human male," Nilrasha explained, "So I'm guessing he's a male."

"But if he is someone's thrall, whose is he?" Simae's question only got a moment of silence from the other drakka.

"Maybe some dragon from the Imperial Rock?" Nilrasha finally answered, "Perhaps the Tyr and his mate?"

"I don't think the griffaran would have a job anymore if the Tyr had a thrall like that hanging around," Simae answered, a small shuffle punctuating her shudder of dread.

Nilrasha could understand, whatever he was, the giant definitely made her feel nervous, as if his very presence projected overwhelming power despite being smaller than a fully grown dragon or dragonelle. The fact that he unnerved her so easily only made it worse for the drakka, not wanting to show weakness in front of Ensella and the other Firemaidens.

The sudden _creak_ and _groan_ of what could only be the carts being pulled by the Drakwatch started to fill the air. It seemed the human had heard it too, as he slowly got up from his sitting position and faced the noise, which came from the opposite end of the depression that he had entered from.

"By the Spirits, what's that?" was the surprised exclamation of one of the drakes at the head of the line, the cart hooked up to him slowing to a slightly noisy stop.

A blue-scaled drake escorting the convoy walked up beside the red cart puller, "I don't know, do you think the Firemaidens enlisted the help of a thrall? That sounds like cheating to me," he answered his comrade.

"Why're you stopping," the unmistakable lisping voice of Nivom called out from further back, the white-scaled drake already trotting up to the front, his red eyes scanning and easily finding the human.

"It's a human, sir," was the hesitant blue's answer, "At least, I think it is."

"I can see that, but why haven't you gone around him or ordered him to move?" was the snappish reply of Nivom.

"We don't know if he's a thrall Nivom, looks pretty free to me," peeped the red.

This seemed to give the albino drake pause, as he fully looked over the still unmoving giant. "Can you understand me?" Nivom finally said to the human.

This got the giant's attention, as his gaze centered in on the drake.

* * *

"Can you understand me?" the xeno's voice caught Skald's attention quickly, taking a moment to translate it in his head.

He had taken the time to decipher more of the older xeno's memories before the new group had arrived. What stood before him were what they called 'drakes,' a wingless juvenile male, and an albino at that along with his companions. He also noticed a scar on the albino's face, a large one that exposed its gums and fangs, resulting in the lisp her heard in its voice. He had smelled the others, and was sure he had seen the forms of other 'dragons' hiding in the rocks just out of sight of the drakes that stood before him now.

It was then he noticed the albino that had addressed him was starting to look impatient, so he nodded his head slowly in affirmative. He was still absorbing how to replicate the words he was hearing, though his grip on his chainaxe never faltered.

"Are you a thrall?" was the xeno's next question. The Lone Wolf was quick to glare and shake his head in the negative, being a 'thrall' definitely sounded similar to being a slave to his ears.

"What are you doing here?" the albino's next question got Skald thinking of how to answer. On the one hand he could give the xeno an honest answer and that he was lost and in unfamiliar territory; on the other, he could try and intimidate the diminutive juvenile and his group to stay away. He certainly didn't need the slaughter of offspring bringing the entire population raging down on his head.

' _Perhaps I could do both_ ,' he thought. Working his jaw muscles to see if he could at least manage to be intelligible, he spoke, "Lost," he said to the albino. His word came out very stilted, sounding very much like a child speaking for the first time, much to the Astartes' chagrin.

This seemed to get the xeno opposite him thinking, if the movement of its jaw and the _clicking_ of its teeth were any indication. "Then you'll have to come with us, can't have you leading other humans or dwarves to us," the xeno finally said.

At that Skald scowled and clenched the fingers in his power fist closed. "No," he stated with finality to the xenos. To emphasize his point, he lashed out with the weapon, making the rock to his left _crunch_ as it crumbled with great ease under the strike.

* * *

 **Codex:**

 **Dragonelle: Fledged adult female.**

 **Drake/Drakka: Juveniles that have gained the ability to breathe fire, term for male and female respectively.**

 **Anklene/Wyrr/Skotl: The three bloodlines of dragons inhabiting the Lavadome, an underground construction built in the ancient past, possibly by natural forces or magic. United by the Tyr after the First Dragon Civil War.**

 **A/N: And there we have it people, again, sorry if it seems a little hacked off at the end, wanted to make it of a similar length and give something of a glimpse into the minds of some of the personas Skald will be encountering. And with that, I will hopefully see you all next time.**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Ahh, welcome back everyone. Had a little real life thing disrupt my creative flow, so, sorry about the lateness of this chapter. Anyway, I hope this is just as good a read as the last two chapters. Also, if anyone has noticed I have updated Chapter 1, I read back through my copy of Dragon Outcast (3rd book of the Age of Fire series) and found out I'd left out a canonical detail that's now hopefully been fixed.**

 **Disclaimer: See Prologue. And without further ado, please read, review, and enjoy!**

* * *

"No."

The single word hung over the drakes and drakka in the depression like a dread omen. Nilrasha could count her own breaths on a single _sii_ as the human withdrew his gigantic fist from the stone, dust and small bits of stone falling from it and clinging to the limb.

Dread filled her belly as she looked between Nivom and the human, wondering just what the drake was going to do.

The albino for his part seemed taken aback at the human's answer. "No?" he repeated the human's answer then continued, "You have members of the Drakwatch at your front and the Lavadome to your rear, you don't have a choice," Nivom explained to the human, his tone curt.

This drew a feral snarl from the human, who then growled out, "Leave me, or I kill you all."

The words seemed to agitate Nivom further, though Nilrasha wasn't so sure in the belief that the dragons held the position of superiority. "That's quite a big threat for one human," the drake said, tail lashing and claws extending, "Come with us quietly or we will make you wish you did."

Nilrasha watched, waiting for Ensella to give an order of some kind as the human slowly stomped towards the drakes. Once they got a good look at how they compared to the human in size, the red drake squeaked and backed up slightly, his blue-scaled companion matching him. Nivom however remained in place, staring up into the human's eyes, red eyes staring into yellow ones.

* * *

Skald stared down the smaller xeno, waiting for it to make its next move. It hadn't backed down; he could respect that, at least. A foolish decision on its part, but nonetheless a brave one regardless of species, to stand up to an armed and armored Astartes.

"Make me," he retorted, his expression not changing from its dour turn. He straightened to his full height, holding the fingers of his power fist loose, his chainaxe also in a relaxed grip.

The drake definitely didn't take Skald's lack of seriousness in his pose well. With a snarl, the scaly lizard leapt, and had the Lone Wolf been a mere mortal, the xeno might have been able to actually hurt or even kill him. But the drake wasn't facing a human, he was facing a full Adeptus Astartes of the Imperium of Mankind.

Skald's reaction was much faster than the smaller xeno had likely anticipated, though he had to make sure to not make the attack lethal. The flat of the Lone Wolf's chainaxe swung, slamming into its shoulder with enough force to divert its course away from him and into the depression's wall with a heavy _whump_ and the light scrape of its scales along the stone. The white scales around the area of impact had cracked, some broken completely. The albino landed on its stomach, whatever breath it had left exiting it in a loud burst.

The Astartes quickly rounded on the downed xeno, reaching it easily in a couple steps. He had to act quickly before any of the others could recover from their shock. He raised his chainaxe high, thumbing the rune and the weapon quickly roared and its teeth spun, the sound slightly amplified by the depression. He brought it down millimeters from the xeno's head, the weapon biting into the ground, sending up dust and some sparks here and there.

Skald kneeled down; pressing his knee onto the xeno's back, preventing it from getting up. He leaned so that its eye not facing his chainaxe could see him, pressing down towards the base of its neck as he did so.

"Try again?" he rhetorically said to the xeno, even as it tried to wriggle under him, the Astartes pressing down a bit harder, causing the drake to stop.

The drake didn't seem to have any retort for him, the reptile simply staring back at him with one eye, the other no doubt locked on his chainaxe.

He didn't see the other one coming as it leapt onto his backpack and attempted to claw at the ceramite casing, no doubt with a goal to get to his exposed head. He had to get off of the drake so that he could deal with the new attacker. He could feel its weight clinging to him, while it wasn't something he couldn't handle it was still noticeable.

In order to try and dislodge his unwanted passenger, Skald began thrashing his body back and forth, unable to reach the attacker due to their position on his back and his own power armor. His efforts quickly yielded results, his attacker scrabbling against his backpack for purchase before they were flung off.

Seeing the drake about to get up, Skald lashed out with a swift kick that was maybe harder than he needed, breaking more scales and he was sure he had heard a bone crack or possibly break on impact. Turning, he saw that his surprise attacker was green, a drakka judging by their size and coloration.

Seeing the xeno was already getting to their feet, he didn't waste time advancing on it. Having neglected his chainaxe, the Lone Wolf decided his hands would do for now. The smaller xeno turned to face him and leapt, very reminiscent to the Thunder Wolves of Fenris. Twisting to the side, Skald sidestepped and as the xeno started to fly past him, grabbed them by the scruff with his power fist. The size of the weapon meant that he grabbed them more by their shoulders than the scruff, but it provided a good hold regardless.

Thinking quickly, Skald held the thrashing reptile at arm's length, turning it away from him before forcing it to the ground on its belly. The xeno's breath was forced out of it loudly as it hit the ground. The Lone Wolf's temper was rising, his frustration with dealing with the xenos causing him to snarl. ' _Perhaps I need an example_ , _and I know just what_ ,' he thought as an idea came to him. He raised his power fist, fingers clenched, the power field sparked into life around it. Without wasting a moment, he brought the now activated power fist crashing down.

Bits of xeno and the ground under it promptly flew everywhere upon impact.

* * *

Her thoughts ground to a stop as Ensella was blown to pieces by the human's glowing hand. One moment the human had thrown her off and then to the ground, then the next, she was gone in a spread of gore and blood.

"Nilrasha, did, did you see that?" Simae's hushed and terrified whisper spoke to the similarly afflicted drakka.

"I did see," was the only response she could give to the other female. Looking frantically, she saw Nivom was just as frozen as she was; the drake's eyes were wide at the sheer carnage of one blow from the human.

Said human stood up to his full height. He surveyed all present in the depression, even the other Firemaidens didn't escape his gaze in their positions. As he looked over in her direction, Nilrasha was unable to suppress a shudder of fear as that completely alien face looked at her, despite the familiarity of a human's face that he wore. Whatever he was, he only looked like a human, but he wasn't one.

"Leave, or share fate," the human growled, gesturing with his hand not coated in blood and viscera at what little remained of Ensella. The Firemaidens set to mumbling amongst themselves, without Ensella, they were effectively leaderless. Nivom seemed caught between thinking of avenging the drakka or conceding to the human's threat.

"Firemaidens," a voice rang out, startling Nilrasha as she found out it was her own, and that she had stood from her hidden position, revealing herself to the human fully. "Let's, let's return to the Hill," she continued, her voice faltering slightly now that all gazes were on her, "There's no more reason for others to die." She hoped they would listen, no one else needed to die in as grisly a fashion as Ensella had.

The other Firemaidens looked between each other, and then they started filing towards the end of the depression, headed for the Lavadome. Nilrasha couldn't believe it; they had actually done what she'd said. She looked towards Simae, the other drakka standing to leave as the others walked away. Noticing Nilrasha looking at her, Simae bobbed her head, respect glinting in her eyes. A part of her couldn't help but revel in the look, enjoying her newfound leadership.

Just as she was thinking that she might be able to get used to such glances, she noticed the human's own gaze on her. Despite the unreadability of his hominid eyes, she almost thought she saw a similar if muted respect as Simae. Perhaps earning respect with just her own comrades would be a better place to start, Nilrasha doing all she could to suppress another shudder as she went after her fellow Firemaidens.

* * *

Nivom watched as the drakka took command of the Firemaidens, and to his surprise had found they had had the depression surrounded. To the drake's further surprise she had convinced her fellows to leave despite having the advantage of numbers and the perfect height to strike the human from. All wasted, on the notion that the human might be more than they could handle.

As he thought about it, perhaps the human might indeed be more than a group of Drakwatch and Firemaidens could handle. He had after all completely splattered that single drakka all over the depression. He could still feel her blood clinging to his scales. A twinge of pain from his ribs and shoulder from where the human had kicked him also reminded him of how useless he might be should he decide to fight. He'd have to get checked by a thrall for what the damage was, aside from his scales, he could see that clearly enough from their cracked and broken condition.

Leaning slightly to keep part of his weight off of his tender shoulder, Nivom stared at the human as he watched the Firemaidens go. ' _It's the perfect time to attack_ , _why doesn't he take advantage_?' the drake thought to himself, ' _Then again_ , _they are doing as he wanted us to do in the first place_ , _a human of his word then_.' At his mental conclusion, Nivom thought of a way to handle it. They'd do as the human demanded, but the Tyr would be sure to hear of this.

"Drakwatch, we're leaving," Nivom cursed his own cowardice in bowing to the wishes of a mere human, but if he were to have any chance of surviving, then it'd be by getting news to the Imperial Rock. He turned to the human, "Unless you plan on letting us through, you're blocking our way."

The gigantic human looked between Nivom and the carts, then at the depression. Seeming to come to a conclusion, he started towards his toothed weapon, yanked it out of the ground, then started towards where the carts had stayed. Nivom's two fellow Drakwatch members, Augreth still hitched to the cart and Sivelmedes if he remembered correctly quickly bristled as if he were approaching to attack. The two quickly found out that wasn't the case as the human made sure to get out of the depression without getting any closer to the carts than need be.

"Come on, everyone through," Nivom quickly ordered. Augreth immediately set his weight forward, the cart behind him creaking as it followed. Pressing against the depression wall, Nivom watched as each drake pulled a cart, a total of four entering the depression and then exiting, the human simply standing and watching them. Drake and human watched each other, each one waiting to see if the other one would make a move. The last cart quickly made it past with its escorts unharmed. As the last drakes walked past him was when Nivom finally decided to take his own leave, turning so he was backing out of the depression, unwilling to take his eyes off of the human.

As he finally came out of the depression did the human himself turn to leave, similarly to the drake he did not turn his back on them until he had gained some distance from the depression. No doubt he knew that Nivom would not keep silent about what had happened. ' _Soon_ , _vengeance will befall you human_ , _and glory will be mine when I take your head_ ,' Nivom thought to himself.

* * *

"My Tyr, you look troubled." The concerned statement from his dark silver-scaled advisor drew a slightly confused snort from the dark red dragon. He had apparently drifted off as some of the royal thralls cleaned his scale.

"My apologies NoSohoth," he said to the other dragon, "I'm fine, must have nearly fallen asleep again, I didn't sleep well."

The statement didn't seem to fool NoSohoth one bit, the silver snorting in his disbelief, "Trouble sleeping, I would think I'd have heard you and the Queen if that had been so, Tyr."

"By the Spirits, was that a joke?" the Tyr rhetorically asked the other dragon, "I must truly look a sight if you're making a joke," he let out an exaggerated breath through his nostrils, "I will be honest, I've had a feeling of dread ever since I awoke early, and it's been keeping me awake ever since."

"Dread, Tyr?" NoSohoth said, quite understandably confused, the silver cocking his head to the side.

"I'm not sure what's causing it," the Tyr admitted, "But I have the feeling that today is going to be a day for bad news."

No sooner had the Tyr relayed his feelings than the wingless red Drakwatch instructor NeStirrath practically dashed into the Imperial Gardens, followed closely by a white-scaled drake with a nasty facial scar, and after the duo was a green-scaled Firemaid with her red painted neck stripes and a smaller drakka.

NoSohoth was quick to go to the edge of the rise leading to the cave of the Tyr and the Queen proper to address the visitors. "NeStirrath, Senfirra, what is your business here?" he called out to them, the dragons and younglings coming to a stop so that they may bow their heads low to the Tyr as the dark red got up and approached.

"My Tyr, grave news, there's been a tragedy," NeStirrath didn't mince his words, his wing stumps twitching as he got up from bowing.

The Tyr was quick to latch onto this, "What sort of tragedy?" he dreaded saying.

"One of my Firemaidens was killed," Senfirra quickly picked up the story, "By a human that somehow found his way into the Lavadome."

"A human?" the Tyr replied, curiosity mixing with the dread.

"Aye," NeStirrath pushed the drake forward, "Tell the Tyr what you saw lad," the old red told the young drake.

"It was a human, Tyr, a very big one, wearing armor like nothing I've ever seen or heard about," the drake was quick to answer, though with a slight lisp likely due to the scar on his face. After a bob of the Tyr's head to ask him to continue, the drake did so, "I'm not sure how it got into the Lavadome, but it confronted my _sissa_ and the Firemaidens out in the training grounds."

This was very troubling news, a human that could take on a dragon, and had already killed one drakka. "What happened, I want to know every detail," he said reluctantly, his feelings of dread returning in force.

The drakka piped up, "We saw it first, though we were prepared to ambush the Drakwatch as part of a challenge between Nivom and Ensella our own _sissa_ leader in one of the depressions in the training grounds." The Tyr again bobbed his head as permission to continue and after a steadying breath the young female did so, "The human blocked the way through, and threatened to kill all of us if we didn't leave him."

This new information only seemed to make things seem worse, then a human thrall suddenly ran into the gardens as fast as he dared, surprising some of the arrivals. "Attack, assassin, the Marble Slope, HeNuath gravely injured!" the human gasped between labored breaths.

"First a dragon of the Marble Slope attacked, then a drakka of the Firemaidens killed, this cannot be a coincidence, Tyr," NoSohoth said after the thrall stopped to catch his breath.

The Tyr couldn't agree more with his advisor, "Is there a description of the assassin, thrall?"

"Human, Tyr, a giant in unknown armor, with a wolf's head symbol," the human replied, making sure to keep his head low in supplication.

"That sounds exactly like the human who killed Ensella," the drakka said, confirming the Tyr's suspicion.

"Then that settles it, rouse the griffaran, we need to find this human before there are any more dragon deaths," the Tyr commanded, "And ready the old armor, I feel it may be needed." NoSohoth bowed his head and took wing to go to the griffaran roosts at the river ring, and NeStirrath and Senfirra took their charges back to their respective caves, NeStirrath and the drake to the Drakwatch training caves in the Imperial Rock and Senfirra with the Firemaiden to Halfhollow Hill.

The Tyr had no doubt that they would want a part in the coming search.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, here's the end of the chapter. Hope you all enjoyed it and again, I'm so sorry for it being so late. Should be a short Codex for terms though this time around.**

 **Codex:**

 **Sissa: Term for groups of Drakwatch and Firemaidens. Refers to the number of digits on a dragon's limbs, to a total of twelve, meaning that a sissa of either group is composed of a total of twelve drakes or drakka.**

 **Thrall: A hominid servant of a dragon of the Lavadome. Many are humans but there are also elves, blighters, and demen. Dwarves often commit suicide rather than live serving a dragon, making them extremely rare for thralls.**

 **Firemaiden/Firemaid stripes: Red stripes painted on the neck of a dragonelle or drakka of the Firemaidens. There are a total of Three Oaths, the Third marking a dragonelle as having taken the oath to join the order of celibate Firemaids. Note: Outside of fight training, it's considered extremely impolite for a dragon to even touch a Firemaiden even if they haven't taken the Third Oath.**

 **Tyr: Title of the reigning dragon of the Lavadome, established by the Wyrr dragon FeHazathant (whose mate, the Skotl Tighlia, became Queen) after the Dragon Civil Wars that united the three lines. FeHazathant was actually in this chapter, just not addressed by name.**

 **And there's the end of it, quite a short Codex I'd say. And without further ado, I'll see you all next time!**

 **EDIT: Alright, I expanded the Codex, there's some interesting tidbits that might not make it into the later chapters.**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello hello again people. See, what did I tell ya, I'm back and continuing this story! Hit a bit of a snag regarding the last part of the chapter, but I buckled down and pushed through. Hopefully this will make up for the ungodly wait that was the coming of the previous chapter, still sorry for that. Anyway, the Disclaimer!**

 **Disclaimer: See Prologue. And without further ado, please read, review, and enjoy!**

* * *

Skald continued following the xeno's memories, weaving in and out of the various rock formations, towards what he had gathered was a ring of flowing water around where the xenos called home. Unfortunately the xeno had never gone very far from where the Astartes found himself, only knowing that water flowed in various directions, primarily away to the North and in from the South and West.

' _Of all the xenos to get memories from_ , _it had to be one that was nearly useless_ ,' he thought to himself with a growl. Regardless of his feelings on the matter, he had to get away from the large concentration of xenos before they decided to come at him en masse. Granted he might have bought more time for himself if he had just slaughtered all of the xenos he had left back in the gulch, but he had essentially given his word that he'd leave them alone if they left, and without his honor, he was no Space Wolf. He would have been no better than the traitors that ended up sending him here.

The terrain he traveled started to even out, even sparse, dark colored grasses started to pop up in tufts. The rocky formations that previously provided the Lone Wolf cover started to disappear. At this he slowed his pace. As the rocks suddenly cut off, he stopped entirely. He scanned around with his eyes, focusing entirely on his senses. He couldn't smell any of the xenos nearby, any recent scents anyway. And the same unknown smell from the cave still lingered. It was as if the scent was everywhere Skald looked or went in this Emperor-forsaken place. At least he hadn't smelled any obvious Warp taint aside from what still clung to him.

A sound tickled his hearing, immediately silencing any further thoughts. He focused on the sound, determining its direction, and pinpointed the source to be off to his right, but away from the cover of the rocks. It was however in the same direction as the river ring, his destination. Figuring that he might be able to handle a lone adult xeno if it came to that, he cautiously advanced with his chainaxe in hand.

What he saw surprised him, he had apparently stumbled upon a field for tending livestock. He saw what looked to be cattle being attended by a human, a wooden staff in hand and simple slightly ragged clothes covering him, his feet bare. As he approached, he noticed that what he had taken to be a human wasn't actually an average human. The cow hand was slightly taller and bigger than the average human was, and upon further study, had much more body hair and muscle as well. The xeno's memories told him he was a "blighter" as the xenos called them. Skald filed that information away, thinking on what to say to the man.

"Who you, you replace?" the cow hand addressed the Lone Wolf, using a broken version of the xenos' tongue.

As the hairy man spoke, Skald could see flashes of small fangs in his mouth, ' _An abhuman then_?' he thought to himself before answering, "No."

"Then what you want?" the cow hand said curtly, turning back to watching the cattle.

"Your silence," Skald growled, "Anyone ask, I not here."

This seemed to catch the blighter's attention, "Why?" he said, turning his head to look at the Astartes from the corner of his eye.

"No asking, just silent," the Lone Wolf simply stated, already moving to go around the blighter and the herd.

It seemed to dawn on the man what Skald was up to, "Careful, they watch tunnels," the Lone Wolf heard the cow hand say to him as he left, surprising him slightly. Not wanting to waste any more time than was necessary, Skald broke into a run after he had gotten clear of the herd.

* * *

The feeling of the wind flowing over his feathers was normally a relaxing experience, but today he could only feel a slight dread. He flexed his talons in anticipation of what was to come. The sudden appearance of NoSohoth, the Tyr's advisor, in the griffaran roost had startled many, not to mention the report of an assassin being on the loose and attacking dragons at random had set many on edge.

"Macko, watch your flight path," said the grizzled voice of Yarrick, his griff captain and flight leader. The younger griffaran immediately corrected his course before he could accidentally slam into the veteran.

"Many pardons Flight-Captain," he said afterward, bowing his beaked head as much as he was able without disrupting his flight again.

"Just keep your eyes on the ground youngling, the human couldn't have gotten far," Yarrick said simply, the veteran's gaze doing just that. Macko joined him and the other member of their flight in doing just that.

The flight continued to silently prowl the skies, searching the ground below for any signs of the human. "If he stayed among the rocks, it will be nigh impossible to find him, too much cover," the other griffaran complained, her voice betraying her irritation.

"We'd find him a lot faster if you quit bellyaching," Macko snapped back. The female bristled at the retort, but before beaks could start pecking and talons slashing, Yarrick intervened.

"We'll also find him faster if the two of you wouldn't act like hatchlings fighting over a morsel," the veteran said, raising his voice slightly, cowing the two younger griffaran into submission, the young ones backing into their proper positions in the flight.

The trio soon left the rocks and started searching some of the fields, where thralls would tend to herds given to their dragon masters. Macko felt his stomach rumble a little at the sight of the herds of sheep and cattle, but he shook off the feeling and returned to searching.

"Is that the human?" the female of their flight spoke up, gesturing with her beak to a figure running towards the river ring. Macko turned his own eyes towards it, and he found himself slightly confused, it was certainly big for a human, even from the distance they were at.

"Good eyes Skotssa," Yarrick said, "That may be our quarry; let's get a closer look to be sure." The flight soon turned as one towards the direction Skotssa had pointed out, and quickly flew towards it, diving lower to gain speed. The human may have been moving fast for a hominid, but he was still too slow to even have a chance of outrunning the griffaran.

Macko looked at the human as they got closer, details becoming much easier to pick out to his trained mind and avian eyesight. The human was definitely much larger than any human the young male had encountered or seen before, and he could almost make out a symbol on the human's left shoulder. "That's definitely the human," he said to the other two, catching a nod from Yarrick in his peripheral vision.

"Let's see if we can down him before he gets to the river ring," Yarrick called out, already angling to come down talons first on the human, "Make the Tyr's work a little easier." The two younger griffaran slowly decreased their speed, flaring their wings so that they would come in behind the veteran, talons ready to rend and tear. The flight made ready to attack in the complete silence attributed to their kind.

* * *

Skald continued his course towards the river ring, he was close, and he could already see its waters. He had tried to angle for a known crossing point, but the fine details of where they were weren't coming from the xeno's memories easily, especially when doing so while running headlong towards it. A faint rustling noise, akin to air moving over feathered wings, was all the warning that he was under attack he received before they struck.

Skald dived towards the side, barely being raked across the shoulder and side of his backpack by the attacker. He was knocked slightly off kilter, turning his stumble into a roll. A flash of dark talons in the edge of his vision spurred him to bring up his arm, the ceramite gauntlet rasping as the sharp implements raked across it. He dove to the side again, barely avoiding being slashed by another set of talons.

As his attackers climbed back up into the air, he got a better look at them. They appeared to be giant birds, with slightly featherless heads and sharp beaks. Equally sharp talons rested on their legs. Their plumage was a relatively uniform dark color, and two large tail feathers trailed behind them in place of full tails. Two of the birds had silver rings placed on the leading edge of one of their wing bones, while one had gold rings.

The Astartes was forced to think in overdrive as the birds climbed in separate directions, obviously planning to divide his attention, and seeing as they were flying he had little choice in the matter. ' _The one with the gold is most likely the leader_ ,' he reasoned, drawing his bolt pistol and reloading, the fresh clip being slammed home. He stored the empty clip where the fresh one had been; it would be a waste to not have it in case he found a way to restock ammunition on this world.

The Lone Wolf looked towards the birds, they were each nearing the apex of their respective climbs, if he was going to act it would have to be now before they could dive. He would need to make this shot count decisively. He found the bird with the golden rings, took aim, and fired his weapon with a loud _bang_.

The bolt round shot through the air, and Skald knew his aim had been true as the shoulder of the lead bird exploded in red and it shrieked in pain. The avian xeno's swoop turned into a plummet, the animal screeching as it fell before it hit the ground with a _thud_ and an audible _crack_ and _snap_. This seemed to throw the other two into chaos, the two silver-ringed birds calling to each other as they looked between themselves, hovering in place for the moment.

Skald decided to make a statement to the two. He quickly approached the fallen bird, to his surprise it was holding onto life, its wing barely attached to its body and shoulder bleeding its life's blood onto the ground. Its eyes glared up at him as he put a boot on it, needlessly holding it pinned on the ground. He looked up towards the other two birds, inhaled, then threw his head back and bared his fangs in a loud _howl_!

That seemed to do it; the sound that came from the Lone Wolf's throat seemed to startle the two birds, making them drop in the air slightly. They quickly took one last glance at their fallen comrade and then turned away, back towards the center of the large dome he had found himself in.

With that done, Skald turned back to the dying bird. It was definitely older than the other two, with visible battle scars along its face and some even through its coat of feathers. ' _Emperor forgive me_ , _but the situation demands it_ ,' he thought to himself as he reached down, dabbing up some of the xeno's blood on his glove's fingertips. He brought them to his mouth and quickly licked the red fluid off of them.

* * *

To say Tyr FeHazathant was taken by surprise at the sudden arrival of the two griffaran looking like Anklamere himself was after them, would be pretty spot on. The dark red dragon had already gotten the ancient dragon armor on with assistance from Imperial thralls, directed by NeStirrath. Said dragon and his mate's brother SiDrakkon now flanked him as he made his way on foot through the training fields, the last known location of the human assassin. A number of Firemaids and members of the Aerial Host circled above them, keeping watch.

The two griffaran clearly had been flying at full speed for some time, or had expended much of their adrenaline, as they were panting as they skidded slightly before stopping and bowing to the Tyr. "Tyr, we have news of the assassin," one of the silver-ringed avians said, still catching his breath.

"Go on then, spit it out," SiDrakkon chimed in, already impatient with having to walk due to the weight of the Tyr's armor forcing the red dragon to remain grounded.

"He's headed for the river ring, he's already made it to the fields," the female of the pair answered for her compatriot.

"What happened to your captain?" NeStirrath said, and the Tyr also made note of the lack of a griff captain's presence.

"The assassin, the assassin shot him," the male replied, voice hitching, "He pulled some kind of weapon, it made a sound like thunder, and the next thing we know Captain Yarrick is falling."

This made the Tyr's stomach twist, to think his old friend from the war was in all likelihood dead. "He cannot be allowed to escape, we must catch him before he can make it to the Upper World and we won't be able to find him," he finally said, his words drawing the attention of the two dragons with him. They bowed their heads in acknowledgement.

"What are your names?" he suddenly addressed the two griffaran.

"I am called Macko, and my flight-mate is Skotssa," the male replied.

"You two have done well this light, go back to the roost, we'll take things from here," the Tyr told them. The two griffaran bowed their beaked heads and took wing, heading back to the roost as they were ordered. The Tyr turned to his escorts and addressed them, a fire in his belly turning his words to steel, "Let's go, before this assassin can cause any more damage." The dragons bowed their heads and the trio soon advanced, heading for the river ring at the nearest known thrall crossing at a much faster pace than before, their flying escort keeping pace overhead.

* * *

Skald had learned much from the blood of the avian, which he had learned was called a griffaran. Not only that, but he had also learned that the xenos he had encountered earlier were fresh from their own civil war, and while much stronger than other factions in the Lower World as they called the underground, their numbers were also limited. Not to mention they had very necessary holdings in the Upper World, as the world above was called. Resources flowed in to the place he was in now, called the Lavadome.

He had also learned some of the xenos' culture, and that the cow hand he had encountered earlier was a thrall, a slave for all intents and purposes. The thralls practically outnumbered their xeno masters, but didn't dare rise up for fear of the retaliation it would bring. Many if not all of the reptiles had thralls as personal servants with very close access to them in private settings as well as access to their food. It was almost enough to make him chuckle as he jogged towards the river ring.

First things first, he would need to find a way to escape the xenos' notice, possibly aboveground. The river ring had a crossing for the xenos' thralls nearby, so that would be his best and quickest option. If the xenos had already sent out a search party they may be heading that way too. Hopefully his head start on them would be enough to keep ahead of them and minimize the vulnerability of him being on the crossing and out on open water. If they were flying he'd have even less time.

He could hear the waters of the river ring already; he had to be nearing the shoreline and thus the crossing. As he increased his pace, he thought he heard what could be a boat bumping up against the soil; he hoped whatever wooden construction he was likely to find would hold his weight. What he found as he came upon the shoreline was enough to temporarily give him pause.

He had found a boat, that was for certain, and a rather large one for the supposed primitive nature of the xenos he had encountered. What he hadn't expected was to find what looked like insectoid humans. They had a very dark colored carapace all over their bodies, with quills poking out from their forearms and backs, the word, ' _Demen_ ' flashed through his mind from his assimilated memories.. They carried a number of various blades, some triangular in shape and others carried in a reverse grip with a wide flared tip. They chittered back and forth between each other at the sight of him, many raising their blades. One of the bigger individuals, only a head shorter than the Lone Wolf, stepped forward and addressed him in the xeno tongue, "Who are you?"

Skald had to think on his next words. These could be possible allies; they didn't look to be thralls, though appearances could be deceiving. "I am Skald, Lone Wolf," he said slowly in answer, walking towards them with his free hand away from his chainaxe or bolt pistol. He was slowly beginning to grasp the tongue, though many of his words were still slurred due to the nature of the language being made with having a muzzle in mind.

"Why are you here?" the supposed leader of the insectoids snapped, clearly as agitated to be out in the open as the Astartes.

"Leaving," Skald said bluntly, "Need to cross river ring. Dragons chasing," he hated addressing the xenos by their native name, but there was no equivalent to "xenos" in their tongue.

This started a bit of an uproar among the insects, "You'll lead them right to us!" the large individual in front of the Astartes snapped, pointing an accusing finger at the towering Astartes.

"We leave, then they not catch us," Skald said, which caused the deman to give him a reproachful look.

"Why should we take you? You're the one they want," the large deman said with a snarl.

"You at war with dragons, I help," Skald returned, gesturing to his weapons, which seemed to catch the insect's attention. "I can convince thralls to rebel," He added on, hoping to get on the deman's good side as an inkling of a plan began forming in his mind.

The glimmer of interest was definitely there in the deman's eyes, Skald could see it as the one across from him began looking between the Astartes and the rest of his group. "We'll take you, if you can help us get the caves of our ancestors back, but if you think of betraying us," the deman punctuated his statement with a snap of his sharp teeth, "You will be the first sacrifice to our gods."

' _Good luck trying that abhuman_ ,' Skald thought to himself, though he kept it to himself, he needed to get _out_ of the nest of xenos, not mire himself in it.

He was drawn out of his thoughts at the sound of what could only be the roar of one of the reptilian xenos.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, that's that. Hope you all liked that chapter. Any sort of feedback you all may have for me would be greatly appreciated. And on to the Codex!**

 **Codex:**

 **Anklamere: A great (possibly) human sorcerer. Known to be the defining figure of the Age of the Sorcerer. Some credit him with the creation of the Lavadome and the dragon lines that dwell within it (See: Anklene line for direct homage).**

 **Lavadome: A great dome made of crystal. Some credit it to a scale dropped by the Air Spirit from the sky that burrowed deep into the earth. Others credit it to the sorcerer Anklamere. And others credit it as a natural formation.**

 **Spirits: Entities that are intertwined with dragon legends. They are the Air, Fire, Earth, and Water Spirits. Dragon lore dictates that each race was the work of one Spirit or another, some are a combination of them. Dragons being a creation of all four spirits, though that may be some of their pride influencing the story.**

 **Demen: Insectoid hominids that dwell in the Lower World. In conflict with the dragons ever since the Lavadome was established, in which they lost many of their old territories.**

 **And with that done, I hope to see y'all again in the next installment of Age of Eternal War!**

 **EDIT: A guest has pointed out a very good fact about Space Marine biology to me. I've hopefully changed things to help compensate for it, griffaran are described as being able to fly silently by dragons, which have keener hearing than humans (able to detect changes in heartbeat when in an enclosed setting like a fortune telling tent according to the 2nd book). Thank you for your assistance Guest.**

 **EDIT 2: Good golly what is wrong with me, I got something else wrong too! The dragons are a product of all of the Four Spirits, I read and have the books in my possession, I should know this! Thanks again to another or the same Guest, what would I do without helpful people like you?**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Oh wow, look at that, it's a new chapter! So sorry for the wait people, no real excuse for this aside from it getting away from me and general lack of inspiration. And trying to work with a one-shot contest that I ended up not being able to submit to. Plus I had to handle this situation delicately, I hope what I've got here is up to snuff.**

 **Disclaimer: See Prologue. Without further ado, please read, review, and enjoy!**

* * *

"The dragons are here!" the deman shouted, his fellows already retreating back to the boat they had arrived in. Skald looked about, the roar had definitely come from the air, he drew his bolt pistol and held it up and ready to fire at a moment's notice. He cast about with his senses, focusing on his hearing most of all as there was no wind to send their scents to him.

He heard a flapping of wings, from the same direction as the earlier roar, a good many of them. He also thought he could hear footfalls, quadrupeds, but a much smaller group than the flyers. But he could also hear the distinct _clank_ of metal armor. This aroused his curiosity but first he had to deal with the demen and the matter of his, if only temporary, escape.

He made to move towards the boat, only to find the deman that he had been talking to blocking his way. "You're not coming with us, they followed you, they're getting you," the abhuman growled.

Skald curled his lip and growled himself, "You row, not fast enough, they kill you from the air," he reminded the abhuman. The wingbeats were getting closer by the moment, another roar echoing from the sky.

"Not if they're distracted with you," the insectoid spat, giving the Astartes' weapons an exaggerated glance. "You say you can help us, prove it now by fighting them," he continued. Looking behind the deman, Skald could see that some were retrieving what looked like blowpipes and darts while the others were preparing to set off from the shore. The deman commander immediately turned and joined his men, leaving the Lone Wolf standing there.

He drew his bolt pistol and turned to face the oncoming xenos, he focused on his Lyman's Ear, pinpointing where he'd need to aim. He raised the weapon, slowing his breathing even as he made minute adjustments as he focused and separated each wingbeat from the others. He turned to his left slightly and then waited for them to show themselves. Each _thump_ sounded like the beats of a war drum, or an individual heart beating among many.

There, a flash of golden scales.

 _BANG, BANG, BANG_!

Skald fired three times in quick succession, the rounds screaming towards their intended target faster than sound. The golden dragon's scaly hide erupted in three places, once just under the chest, the second on the belly, and the third from its side as the bolt round nearly missed. The stricken reptile fell to the ground screeching, landing with a _crunch_ as it landed on one of its front limbs on the hard ground. It didn't get up.

He had two rounds left, the sudden appearance of green farther to his right, he turned just as swiftly.

 _BANG_!

The xeno's neck burst with red fluid, another round of screeching as it fell into the water behind the Lone Wolf with a _splash_. The xenos stopped coming after him, loud shouts in their tongue audible over the sound of the floundering reptile, "Stop, before any more are taken from us!"

There was a pause, and then a red tail-tip swung into view. He let it be, not wanting to waste the final bolt in the clip with a non-lethal shot. The limb was retracted, disappearing from view. He heard more movement approaching, heavy footsteps and the _clank_ of armor from before.

A trio of the reptiles crested the hill. A red-scaled xeno with stumps where its wings should be, another that was a purple color similar to something he'd heard called a radish, and the one in the middle was another red wearing antique armor plates that covered the body, neck, head, legs, and tail. The one in the middle his borrowed memories labeled as Tyr FeHazathant. ' _So, that is their leader_ ,' Skald thought to himself. The xenos didn't back down, though the two red reptiles did show a professional interest in the weapons on his person, the purple seemed almost like he was preparing to fight. His memories also identified the other two by name, but it was the supposed "Tyr" that drew his attention the most.

Holstering his bolt pistol for now and drawing his chainaxe, Skald kept his gaze locked on the newcomers.

"He's quite big for a human," he heard one of them remark, the wingless red to the armored red beside him. They must think he couldn't understand them.

"It doesn't matter, he will die, then his corpse will adorn the Imperial Rock as an example to all would be assassins," the scaly radish hissed, his claws flexing, armored fins rattling against his crest.

"Don't get ahead of yourself SiDrakkon, he's managed to wound a dragon and kill a drakka as well as a griff captain," the wingless red told his companion, his wing stumps twitching.

' _If they rush me all at once, they're bound to strike me down before I can do so to them,_ ' Skald thought while the three reptiles regarded him, rushing them wouldn't be optimal, the armored red hadn't taken his eyes off him throughout the exchange.

The Lone Wolf scoured the memories he had so far absorbed, then he found a tidbit that could probably help him.

* * *

"I challenge for right to trial by duel," the human's words startled FeHazathant, silencing NeStirrath and SiDrakkon as well.

Just as SiDrakkon opened his mouth to speak, likely to deny the human, FeHazathant spoke up, "Very well, challenge accepted."

"My Tyr, do you think that is wise? This human has already proved able to severely wound and kill dragons," NeStirrath said, his tone concerned.

"It is our best chance to kill him and mitigate any losses, we don't know his full capabilities, we've already lost two of our host to him, I will not lose any more than can be avoided," the Tyr said back, looking at the other red out of the corner of his eye.

"Then let me fight him, no sense risking my sister's mate in combat with a single human," SiDrakkon said, _griff_ already out and rattling, claws unsheathed.

"As you wish SiDrakkon," FeHazathant said, the purple dragon taking a couple strides towards the armored human. In truth, he felt uneasy letting his mate's brother fight the human assassin without armor on. But perhaps the human didn't have as much of an advantage in a straight on fight. They knew what he could do in any other situation but that, every other attack had been a surprise, at range, or against a juvenile.

The dragons around them landed, forming a semi-circle around the impromptu dueling ground. Any demen that hadn't gotten onto their boats stood, watching with anticipation. ' _May the Spirits watch over you SiDrakkon_ , _the demen may get an ally if you lose_ ,' the Tyr thought as the two combatants began circling.

With this opportunity, the Tyr took in every detail he could about the human. His armor definitely matched the description, seeming to be either stone or metal, and was a bluish grey color with a stylized wolf's head on the left shoulder. He moved with an easy, almost predatory grace. It was like watching two dragons in a dueling arena circle each other, both sizing up their opponent, looking for the best way to defeat their opposite.

SiDrakkon made the first move, the dragon inhaling and then unleashing a burst of flame from his maw at the human. The warrior dove, rolling out of the reach of the fire, and in that same motion used his momentum to lunge at SiDrakkon. The human's axe suddenly roared and the metal teeth turned into a glinting blur as it raised up and then came down.

SiDrakkon barely reacted in time, jumping to the side, the axe slashing across his foreleg rather than his shoulder. The teeth bit on scale, rending them with a horrid _screech_ that sent fragments flying, then the hide beneath. The smell of dragon blood soon wafted on the air.

"I take first blood," the human said, his words garbled and slightly stilted. Yet the Tyr could also detect a sort of confidence, bordering on arrogance. SiDrakkon glowered, inhaling again then shooting fire, smaller than his initial blast. Instead of rolling out of the way, the human instead raised his large fist in front of his face. The _foua_ washed over the human, the highly flammable fluid setting the ground around him ablaze. Smoke and heat waves obscured the armored human from view.

"And yet I win," SiDrakkon said, his own voice brimming with smugness at seemingly one upping the human. Yet all that could be heard was the crackling of the flames.

A loud feral howl accompanied the human as he leapt from the flames at the dragon, flames wreathing him from what clung to his armor.

Taken by surprise, SiDrakkon had no time to react. The human's roaring axe came down, biting through his armored scales and into his shoulder. The roaring teeth sent bits of dragon meat and blood flying through the air as it continued its unearthly sound.

The human swung his massive metal fist, latching onto SiDrakkon's neck and gripping tight even as the dragon began to thrash in pain. The Tyr could hardly believe what he was seeing, with one hand the human had buried his weapon into his brother-by-mating's shoulder, and was attempting to strangle him with the other.

SiDrakkon, likely maddened by pain, began thrashing madly and throwing his body around trying to dislodge the human that clung to him like a determined scale mite. Still the human's weapon roared, cutting into the dragon and digging deeper with each moment. Some dragons and demen had to leap aside lest the purple dragon plow into them in his mad throes or whip them with his tail.

After a particularly vigorous buck, the human was forced to let go of his strange axe, the weapon going silent but remaining buried in the dragon's shoulder. SiDrakkon's wings began beating, throwing up dust and fanning the flames that still smoldered. Slowly but surely, weighed down by the human clinging to him, the dragon rose into the air with the human managing to cling to some scale with his other hand.

Haphazardly, FeHazathant watched SiDrakkon gained height, the human fighting to reach for his weapon while clinging to the dragon who was starting to suffer from the attempted chokehold. SiDrakkon sputtered and hacked, trying to force air into his lungs as the human finally grabbed his axe, ripping it free and using the dragon's neck to swing his body around and up to SiDrakkon's shoulders.

* * *

With his throat released, SiDrakkon was able to get air in his lungs and stabilize his ascent somewhat, still made hard by the weight of the human on his back. The purple put his all into beating his wings, dragging the human into as sharp a climb as he could manage. His shoulder and foreleg still burned with pain from the human's axe strikes. Never before had he experienced such a thing, it had felt like the weapon was attempting to rip him to shreds unlike anything else.

He felt the human's large fist clamp on his scruff and lock around his fringe and his legs lock around his shoulders, likely taken by surprise by the sudden climb. He had to act quickly lest the human get his bearings enough to use that axe on him again. The other dragons and the demen were starting to look small below them. Taking this chance, SiDrakkon began thrashing his body in midair, attempting to throw the human off.

His efforts seemed to stave off being sliced open, but he couldn't get the human to let go. The dragon looked up above him, where the stalactites loomed, if he could get there, he might be able to force the human off of him. Or better yet smash him into paste on the rocks. He began weaving through the air, winding side to side so as to try and keep the human just off balance enough to not get a swing at him.

The human's weight suddenly shifted, gripping with his legs, the human suddenly started climbing up the dragon's near-vertical body towards his neck. The weight moving started to hamper him more severely, the long limb not intended to carry more than his head. His climb suddenly came to a halt as he nearly flipped nose-down, the human continuing trying to clamber up his neck. SiDrakkon's wings flapped desperately and haphazardly, already working hard to support the weight of the two now made much more difficult.

The human's weight suddenly lifted off of the dragon's neck, and for a moment he thought he had managed to somehow outlast the giant human. Then he heard the roar of the human's axe right behind his head. Agony erupted from that area as he felt the human's axe dig into one of his neck hearts, becoming lodged behind his griff as it continued ripping and tearing into him.

SiDrakkon's previously shaky climb now became a pain-fueled spiral towards the ground, the dragon already starting to feel woozy as his neck pumped his life's blood out into the air. Acting on impulse, his wings flared out and locked in place, turning his spiral into a circling glide, though the human's weight meant that his neck drooped quite sharply.

A sudden blow to the top of his head caused SiDrakkon to falter in the sky a little as he continued circling. He was sure he felt a few scales crunch on impact, and he momentarily saw double as his eyes shook in their sockets.

Another concussive strike landed, and he was quite certain his skull cracked open at that as a red haze started descending over his vision, objects starting to become blurred. Surprisingly he started leveling out, heading out over the water. Perhaps some part of him was working through this intense pain, thinking to drown the human with him.

He heard a muffled howl as no doubt the third strike was coming down. At the third strike his vision went black as he felt something break completely.

* * *

FeHazathant watched in befuddlement and some horror as his brother-by-mating's glide abruptly ended as the other dragon's body went limp in the sky, falling down and carrying the human with him into the water with a loud _splash_. The water's surface swallowed them up, ripples marring the surface for only a moment before becoming still once more.

There was a loud uproar among the demen still on shore, a similar outcry audible from their boats. "I guess the Queen is going to be receiving some very tragic news," NeStirrath said, his tone somber. The Tyr could only bob his head in agreement.

A sudden surge of ripples in the water silenced the demen, and many of the mumbling dragons as all heads turned towards the disturbance. The water started to turn red slightly as the bubbles and ripples advanced towards shore.

"By the Spirits," FeHazathant said to himself as the human stepped onto shore, his massive metal hand clamped tightly around something large he was dragging behind him. The identity of the object soon revealed itself as the severed head of SiDrakkon, the top of his skull caved in, eyes open and blank, jaws gaping. Many of the gathered dragons started backing away, even the Tyr and NeStirrath found themselves taking a couple steps backward as the human kept moving towards them.

"Can _anything_ kill this human?" NeStirrath said to the Tyr, the red dragon finding he had no answer. The human stopped a short distance in front of the two, his prize held tight. Water dripped from his armor, mixing with the head's still dripping blood and into the soil in a wet muck.

The previously frightened murmurings were starting to become angry, claws kneading the ground and griff rattling. Hearing this, the human glared around at the surrounding dragons, then heaved SiDrakkon's head to the Tyr's feet with a wet _splack_.

"I win," was the human's only statement, causing even more of an uproar, many of the other dragons already clamoring for the Tyr to Cry Havoc and tear the human to shreds. The demen shouted various jeers and insults at the dragons, and just as many congratulations to the human. Oddly enough the human didn't seem to acknowledge the accolades.

"My Tyr, just say the word, and we can tear the human to pieces before he can harm us," NeStirrath piped up, words only slightly shaky.

As much as the red wanted to agree with the Drakwatch commander, he had given the human his word, he had accepted the right to a trial by duel. And his champion had just lost.

"No, let him leave," FeHazathant said, his tone betraying his reluctance. This caused an uproar among the dragons loud enough to make the demen cover their ears, many of them insults towards the Tyr himself and the human. The red dragon simply looked at the human, the two locking eyes, staring each other down amidst the chaos around them.

"You heard the Tyr, the human and the demen can leave, Spirits send them to the depths," NeStirrath shouted over the ruckus, though the last part of his statement was much quieter. With great reluctance, the assembled dragons backed away, giving the hominids space.

One of the boats came to retrieve those still on shore, the demen laughing and making rude comments at the dragons the entire way, taunting them with their victory. The human continued to remain silent, then as he turned himself and the others quieted down, the red thought he could hear the human reciting something, almost with reverence.

 _Sumus_ _lupum_ _quod_ _incedit_ _  
_ _Stellae_ _in_ _caelo_

It seemed to be some kind of verse, though the Tyr didn't recognize the language. The human was soon heaving himself over the side as two larger demen began shoving off, the boat quickly leaving shore with their efforts.

 _Et_ _ignis_ _devorabit_ _iuga sidereos_

 _Noctem_ _illam tecti_ _inter_ _  
_ _Cum_ _lux_ _gone_

It sounded almost similar to a dragon's death song, in a way, though why the human would be reciting such verses now perplexed the Tyr

 _Lumen_ _est_ _in nobis_

 _Currimus_ _ruinam_ _ignis_ _  
_ _In tenebris_

As the human turned back towards the assembled dragons, he put his axe back on his hip, continuing to gaze at the Tyr.

 _Hostes_ _adolebit_ _in_ _nostrae sortis_

As the human finished his chant, the boat had pulled away from shore an was gliding over the water, the demen at the oars pulling with all speed out into the flow. The Tyr got a feeling that this wouldn't be the last he'd see of the human.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, that was something else. Wonder just what the result is going to be in the next chapter. Again, I hope this was a good read for those of you who still continue to look this story up, I don't want to disappoint. Also, for those of you who know Latin, I took this large Space Wolves quote directly from Lexicanum, threw it into Google Translate's Latin translator, and it came up with this. So I apologize if it's cringy, but it seemed similar to what is actually called a death song in AoF, so I hope it works.**

 **Short Codex on, Dragon Biology!**

 **Dragon Blood: Dragon blood is blood, like any normal creature. However, continued consumption of dragon blood can cause rejuvenation as well as actual transformative effects in other species such as hominids and any other creatures that consume it, giving them draconic characteristics. Dragon bones are also considered to be good luck, and sometimes adorn dwarven weapons for decoration, or intimidating other dragons that they are used on.**

 **Fire Bladder: Dragons in Age of Fire store a flammable liquid known as foua in this organ, when this liquid makes contact with the air it bursts into flames. When it is breached a sphincter will close, sealing it off, rendering a dragon without its fire breath.**

 **Lungs: Dragons actually keep their lungs in their backs, normally this isn't a problem as most dragons have scales, but a scaleless grey dragon will find them vulnerable.**

 **Hearts: Dragons have a heart in their chest as would be expected, but they are also described in the text as having neck _hearts_ ostensibly to help blood flow to the brain. These are protected by the griff when in battle.**

 **Griff: These are armored fans that descend from pouches near the head to protect the neck hearts during battle. They will also create a rattling sound when colliding with a dragon's crest. A griff-tchk describes a quick short sound made with the griff, usually denotes a second in time.**

 **Water Lids: Just like it says on the tin, dragons have special eyelids that help them see in the water, when they are closed they give a dragon's eyes a glassy look. Wistala in canon uses this to fake trances while working as a fortuneteller.**

 **Tails: A useful weapon, as well as a tool for chastising uppity hatchlings via smacking them on the snout. A dragon can actually lose a bit of their tail and eventually grow it back, demonstrated by AuRon in canon.**

 **And with that, I hope to see you all in the next installment of Age of Eternal War!**


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